The Magpie Snydrome

At the appointed time our driver, Tamr, fetches us and we're on our way.

Kahn al-Khalini is across town, not far, really, but it is rush hour, so it will take an hour, minimum. We quickly discover that 'riding the ring' this morning was child's play. Cars are squeezed together, seemingly helter skelter. We are at a dead stop for the longest time because cars in the extreme right lane are turning left...across three other lanes. At one point, two drivers emerge and begin yelling. Street theater. Another fellow leaves his car, settles these two down, and begins directing traffic himself. We move again.

In the midst of the mayhem donkey carts are driven down the road, weaving like every other vehicle. Scooters squeeze between cars if there is more than 24 inches. One driver edges forward, his burka-clad passenger on the back of the scooter. They pause next to us and I can hear them laughing and joking. It's all so incongruous. Throw in the wonderful license plates, written in beautiful Arab script and the plentiful mosques, minarets aglow with lights, and I feel like I'm in a scene from some movie.

We're unable to converse with Tamr, who speaks little English. After several attempts he makes a phone call then asks if it's okay for his English-speaking friend to join us. We hesitate. It's okay says Tamr, no charge for him. Ummmmm, well, okay. Nothing had been said about two men escorting us. We've gone off script.

We arrive to Khan al-Khalili a few minutes later and are introduced to Edward, an affable young man who speaks decent English. There's been a mis-understanding...we thought Tamr was to drop us off, then meet us again in three hours to take us back to the hotel. When we try to say good-bye to Tamr he becomes distressed. Edward explains that Tamr is responsible for us. If anything should happen, 'Sara will have his head.' Thank goodness for Sara! As it turns out, we are accompanied by two guardian angles.

Khan al-Khalini is a picture right out of the Arabian Nights. Alley after alley of tiny open-air shops laden with, well, everything. Hanging brass trays, small and large, brass tea sets, belly dance stuff, camels, King Tut replicas, scarabs and on and on and on. Shopkeepers commiserate with one another, waiting for clients, but sadly there are few tourists. I wonder why they're not hasseling us then realize that Karem has stationed himself in front of us and Tamer behind. I see them signal that we are not to be disturbed. We're on a mission -- to go to Mahmoud's shop, a mecca for belly dancers.

Many years ago a student said I had the Magpie Syndrome. What's that, I asked? You are hypnotically drawn to anything that glitters, she answered. Same as a magpie.

Her words come back to me as we enter Mahmoud's...three floors of everything belly dance. Aurel's and my eyes first bug out then glaze over. We've entered Nirvana. Jewelry, hip belts, swords, caftans, skirts, cholis, Saidi dresses, costumes and more. You name it, it's here. Good quality, too. Aurel is there to stock her store. I'm just looking today but begin thinking of recital costumes. I take lots of notes and will buy later.

Tamr and Karem are with Aurel the whole time, Tamr occasionally checking on me. They intepret and negotiate with the salesperson (Mahmoud himself isn't there) and have the patience of two saints, even helping with the shopping! Our plan is to spend an hour at Mahmoud's then head to Yassir's, another store. Instead, we are at Mahmoud's for almost three hours.

It's very late and in all the excitement we haven't eaten all day. Time for our first Egyptian meal.